All One, revolving #3

                      All One, revolving #3

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Backing up --  anyway

Taking that side road--

A shape floats surrounded by a line 

A line names it 

24.

A line, Into being, something here!

Well, supposedly there are no lines in Nature

This assures suspicion of the thought-- 

this

Towards abstraction-- repeating

falling

Oatmeal on my hot plate

Get my muffin, coffee

The paper in the sun

Toss the idea

Get going on something

Till dinner

Reading and then those 

lousy rental movies

Well, yeh-- I got tired.

I drove to town to look at the blankets

Craning my head to see 

the towering cumulous

Yeah, being the Tourist-- the Cloud

Hope-- I never tire of this.

What we liked

“The earth tone was cheap and the red 

Border rare--”

“There was a landscape in 

that emptiness,” he said

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I’m up driving around Coyote

Reading Fashion Magazine

Reading Neitzche

Reading Desert

He’s dead, 

so is that Idea.

That fashion guy lives up there somewhere

Afternoon sun setting

The night sky revolving

Those time lapsed clouds rip past

Exploding Atomic Bombs

Had to think of it 

with that forest fire 

Looked like a mushroom cloud

Shards of pottery

Dead weeds

Tumble weed

Natural facts are 

spiritual facts

Things out there--

He pointed to his heart

Figure with the 

Tibetan Prayer flags

Empty spirit bottles

Mountain top wind whistling

30.

Ending for a 

long time now

Qualified was a word Harold Bloom used to describe my poetry. I hadn’t understood it at first. Qualified by a feeling that I could not  recognized ‘mere being’ for what it was in our collective understanding of reality.

God was still this anxiety, and in a similar way not wanting to recognize what others thought as a recieved religion of ideas. I wanted to make my own idea of reality but that was not easy.

I wanted to go further and this had led to alcohol use to put me beyond. I was beyond that now and still looking back to what had colored my life so.

The landscape and simple reality was ironic to this extreme way of thinking and being.

This was a process of entering another way of life. My own way and rather far advanced without me seeing it.